


Satisfactory

by Lancelot50020



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancelot50020/pseuds/Lancelot50020
Summary: All you had wanted was to follow your dream. It just so happened that your dream was to travel everywhere and learn as many things as possible. You couldn't help but apply to your dream school in your dream program. You couldn't help but want to practice your language skills on as many people that were willing to talk to you.You couldn't help but fall for him.(Main Character does have a name, backstory, and specific traits, but I wrote in second person so the story can still be read as a kinda self-insert)
Kudos: 1





	Satisfactory

**Author's Note:**

> I do update slowly because of life, but I'll try to keep everything up to date. I'm not actually too sure how the story will end so if you want to give some ideas, I'll be happy to take some into consideration. Constructive criticism and corrects are always welcomed and appreciated.

Saying you were nervous was an understatement. It would have been more accurate to say that you were terrified to the point of literally trembling on top of your roommate’s small fridge that was crammed on your side of the room. You could barely keep your eyes from crossing with how intensely you were looking at that stupid white envelope.

_ Who at this college decided that it was a good idea to actually send out the letters print only?  _

You could still hear your roommate screaming at you for wrecking the room after having getting the dreaded email that only seemed to mock her. 

_ “It’s more genuine this way” “it gives you something to look forward too” yeah right. More like dreading that bullshit to show up in snail-mail. _

You knew you had to open that thing at some point. The contents inside weren’t going to change the longer it sat there. Besides, you had to open it up anyway. Your roommate Paula was a gossip nut. There was no way in hell that she’d let you live down the results once she heard about them. If you opened it now you wouldn’t have to tell anyone about it until May.

You knew that the odds were slim of you even getting into the college if you wanted to stay on campus. But no...you had to apply for the dual enrollment with SKY University. It was a program that everyone at your ritzy applied to. Some of those egotistical assholes even applied early decision. Out of everyone, you were the only one to apply at the regular decision deadline, it was your counselor’s idea.

_ “Most of these guys have been tutored in every standardized test you can think of, coaches on what to say, even how to act when they do actually get into college. Trust me, you’re better off not being thrown in the same pond as them.”  _

He was right. Everyone at “the best college-prep high school in the state” couldn’t get in. You were the only one who applied for regular so you hoped your chances weren’t nearly as bad. 

It didn’t help that this was your dream school, but your dream school had a dream price tag. The installment payments for tuition were more than what your dad used to make. Per year. There was no way you could afford it. Even if you took out a loan, there was no way in hell that you’d ever pay it off. It was nearly impossible for them to even accept you, let alone give you a full ride. 

The clock on the wall ticked. Counting the seconds.  _ How long have I been here? _ You really needed to decide on rather you were going to open that letter or let your nosey ass roommate open it for you when she gets back. 

“Fuck it,” you launched yourself off the fridge and stared at the envelope on your desk for a moment. “Now or never, I guess…”

You snatch it up and use your thumbnail to tear the envelope open. You pretend not to notice how light it is. 

Before you can even read the letter fully you start to tear up. Your brain was able to automatically recognize one word: “Congratulations.” 

You read the letter. And again. And again. And again. You feel lightheaded. Your knees buckle under you and you just collapse into a ball of tears and laughter. 

“Well I’ll be damned…” you say through the madness. 

You got in. SKY program and all. Full ride. 

You quickly gathered yourself. Your roommate was going to be back any minute now and she was not going to be happy that her roommate had gotten into the most prestigious college and the best program this side of the states. You hid the letter within a few of your books and yanked your shower supplies out of your drawer to walk the cold hallway to the showers. 

It didn’t matter that you had no one to tell the most amazing news. It didn’t matter that you wouldn’t be able to brag about the school you were going to on May first. You were going to live your dream. And nothing could get you down.

* * *

  
  


You felt like shit. 

You weren’t stupid. Of course, you knew that SKY University was prestigious. You just didn’t know  _ how  _ prestigious. It turns out that you were the only one at your school that got accepted because you were one of the few that stuck with Korean as a foreign language. It definitely helped that you continued to study Japanese and Mandarin along with too many AP classes to count. 

That wasn’t enough for SKY though. Despite taking the ACT and SAT more times than you could count on one hand, they still insisted that you take the Korean placement test. Untranslated. The CSAT was awful, to say the least. You weren’t even surprised when you failed it. If kids that took it in their first language couldn’t even pass it, how the hell were you supposed to pass it? You were surprised that you didn’t completely fail it. If the test was out of 100 points, you got a 2. Not bad for a girl that’s never even been to South Korea. Again, untranslated.

Even your university was impressed. SKY….was a different story though. They essentially said that you did “sufficiently” but they wanted you to take another year of Korean in college and pass a fluency and literacy test with a perfect or near-perfect score. It was a bummer but you knew you could do it. The problem ensued when you decided on your classes.

You always loved language. Everything about it fascinated you. So the look of surprise on your counselor’s face when you declared your major was expected.

“Programing? Not linguistics? Or even international business?”

You smiled, “Programing has its own languages. Don’t worry I want to do a double major in business. Oh!” you swung your legs into your lap, “I also want to continue my studies in Japanese and Mandarin!”

You could have sworn that your college counselor’s face changed twelve different colors in that instant. You assured her that you’d be fine.

You really wish that you had taken her face as a warning sign. 

If you were a loner in high school, you were damn near mute now. You didn’t talk to anyone. For the first three months, your life was all studying. That’s when your roommate invited her boyfriend over. Your college roommate was the same as your high school one; gossip through and through. The only difference was that at least your old roommate was a decent human being. This one was just….shit.

She’d come back to the dorm shit-faced. Throw up. Pass out. Skip endless amounts of classes. You didn’t mind that since you learned that if she wasn’t back by midnight it was better to study in the library until three and if she wasn’t back by then, she was having a hookup and would back around noon. Sure she was cheating endlessly on her boyfriend and was a walking STD but it wasn’t your business anyway. 

That was until she made it your business by talking your ear off and yelling when you put your headphones in to actually get your work done. It pissed you off, to say the least. It wasn’t your problem that she couldn’t stay sober enough to actually get her life together. You wouldn’t mind helping her of she actually wanted it, but you knew she didn’t. 

She’d be sitting on her bed smoking a cigarette complaining about how her boyfriend was, “such a prude! I mean like have you seen me?! Like the guy I was with last night was  _ screaming _ my praise all night. How could what’s-his-name from the fucking  _ biology _ department see how hot I am but my boyfriend who has seen me naked  _ multiple times _ look the other way!”

Frankly, you were tired of it. You just wanted to study kanji in peace. So when she told you that her boyfriend might swing by later to pick up a movie that she borrowed, you had to reel yourself in to just give a thumbs-up back. But you watched her as she left. 

She wasn’t wrong, she was sexy. But she was purposely sexy. You knew better than all of her boy-toys. You were the one that had to go to her classes and get all of her notes while she was recovering from liposuction. You were the one that listened to her drunken rants about plastic surgery. You were the one that drove her to the hospital when her breast implants got infected. While she hadn’t worked for her body in the most “traditional” way, she worked nonetheless. It didn’t bother you that she had plastic surgery. It didn’t bother you that she wore the most impractical clothes for winter weather. It bothered you that she wasn’t grateful to her parents for paying. 

Everything. The plastic surgery, the hooker clothes in ten below weather, the designer bags and the latest technology that she never even used. All of it was her parents’ money. You had only heard her call them once. She was bitching about not getting the newest designer purse, you couldn’t hear what her parents said on the other line but your roommate’s words made you dig your nails into your hand so deeply that you bled.

“I don’t care! Mom everyone has one! Just move into a smaller house and then you’ll be able to get it for me!”

Two weeks later the bag came in the mail.

One month later it’s covered in dust and poking its straps from under her bed. 

That was when you decided to start hating your roommate. So, you hated her boyfriend by immature relation. You knew that shouldn’t have judged him so quickly but you couldn’t help it.  _ She’s an awful person so she must have awful taste in guys, right? _ And for the most part, you were. Every guy she slept with was terrible. Maybe that was why you shouldn’t have been surprised when her boyfriend knocked on your door.

You were getting ahead on homework when he knocked. You pulled your laptop off of the pillow it was propped on and climbed down the creaky ladder to open the door.

Her boyfriend was surprisingly average. Brown hair, brown eyes, glasses, and you guessed him to be about five foot ten. You raised an eyebrow at him, which you hoped would help him see that you wanted nothing to do with him. 

He smiled, “Are you, Anastasia?” 

You nodded ignoring his mispronunciation, “Your movie’s in here.” You didn’t bother to invite him in and simply left the door open behind you as you turned to walk back to your bed. He took the hint and walked in, the door closing itself behind him. 

“Uh…” he looked up at you, “do you know where it is?”

“It should be on that side of the room.” You really didn’t want to keep talking with this guy so you hoped that now that you were typing furiously in your Google Doc that he’d get the hint. 

He does, partially. He rummages around the room for a good fifteen minutes until he finds it. You had been keeping an eye on him out of the corner of your eye, only occasionally sneaking glances at him. You were alone with a guy you had never met before in your bedroom after all. So when he freezes, you unknowingly stop typing as well.

“The fuck…?” he says it so quietly that you can’t even tell if he said it at all.

You try to peer over his shoulder to see what has him so frazzled. It was a box.  _ What’s he getting so worked up about? It’s just a box. _ You almost go back to work until you see the label.

It was a box of condoms. More accurately an empty box that one held condoms.

“Did you know she was cheating on me?” He didn’t bother to look at you.

“Yes, but I figured it was none of my business.”

“Do you know how long?” he kept his eyes trained on the box.

“Not really. She was never here much, so since classes started, I suppose?” You said, almost completely uninterested.

“Do you think I should break up with her?” 

You blinked. “That’s not for me to say.”

“But if you were me..”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t have dated her in the first place.” You slid over to the edge of the bed and let your legs dangle off. “You don’t exactly have the best taste.”

He scoffed and placed the box gently on his girlfriend’s bed. “I suppose you’re right.” He walked over to you and shoved his hands in his pockets.  _ Wow, he’s bad at hiding his emotions. _ You could tell he was trying to not let it show, but you could tell that he wasn’t happy.  _ Pissed would be a better word. _ “Maybe it was because I didn’t want to sleep with her..”

You thought for a moment, “partly, mostly because she felt she didn’t deserve you.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Hey, listen to her ramble drunk a few hundred times and maybe you can come to your own conclusion.” You slid further and off the bed so you could escort him out. 

You turned to walk toward the door when he caught your hand and pushed you against the nearest wall. You gasped at the sudden action and quickly extended your other arm to keep you from slamming your face in. 

He breathed close to your ear, his breath was hot. “Sorry…..I just need something right now.”

You swallowed, thinking that this was going to be it for you. There was no way you could come back from this.  _ Who would have thought that following your dreams would lead you straight into hell? _ You waited for him to do something. But he didn’t. 

After a moment of you gathering your thoughts he spoke, “I won’t force you into anything, so I need you to say something.”

You blinked and turned back at him as much as you could with your arm against your back. He looked tired, angry, and overall empty. You couldn’t help but recognize some of yourself in his eyes.

“Just so you know, this needs to be mutually beneficial,” you said locking eye contact with him.

“I was planning on it.” Without another word he shamelessly pushed against you harder and began to suck on your neck.

It wasn’t the last that his lips met your skin. You became each other’s personal stress relievers. It only took a month for you to start getting comments about how scratched up your back was. The only good thing about it was that no one suspected it was because you were sleeping with your roommate’s ex-boyfriend, everyone thought that you were too much of a loner for that. 

Not even your roommate suspected anything until you left after your semester exam and spent two days ‘relieving stress.’ Surprisingly, she was studying when you walked in. As you walked past her she turned around to look at you.

“Did you start making your own body wash?”

You furrowed your brow, “No.”

“That’s weird...you smell just like Greg.” She shook her head, “He was really into making his own stuff so…”

She paused as up pulled your shirt over your head, ready to be rid of the sweat ridden thing.

“Are you sleeping with Greg?”

You were somewhat shocked that it had taken her only that little information to figure it out. “Yes.”

It wasn’t as if she could be mad about it. He broke up with her after they first relieved stress that first day. You weren’t friends with her, so there was no ‘girl code’ to follow. Also, the fact that it would make her the biggest hypocrite in the world for her to be angry at something like that. 

She gasped and just as you heard her mouth open, you turned to her, “What does it matter to you?”

Her mouth was agape and you didn’t bother to say anything before you grabbed your shower supplies and left the room. 

When you came back she wasn’t there. 

When the new semester began you were told that she dropped out. 

You might have felt guilty if you didn’t have so much on your plate already.

* * *

  
  


“You smell good…” he said, breathing in your hair.

You scoffed, “you only say that because I used your shampoo.”

He brushed your hair to the side and began to kiss the scars that he created on your back, “Untrue.”

You reach over and grab your phone from the nightstand, “Sure, Greg.”

You opened up your email and began to scroll through everything. It was mostly spam but you saw one with the subject line: “The  _ SKY _ is the limits..” You furrowed your brows and opened the email. 

You smiled to yourself as you read the email. You had done everything that SKY University had asked of you while still doing what you wanted to do. It paid off. You were officially going to be starting at SKY University once your final exam results were in. Your counselor had even attached the plane tickets to the email.

“Woah…” he said, now kissing your shoulder blades, “Did something good just happen? I’ve never felt you so relaxed.”

You flipped over on to your chest and stared up at him, “SKY is finally satisfied with me. I’m confirmed to be going in a week or so.”

The dopey smile that he constantly wore when he saw you faded for the first time in months. You had almost forgotten what he looked like without that look in his eyes.

“You’re in the South Korea program?”

“Yeah, it’s why I’ve been so stressed.” You scratched your head, “I’ve been approved for my student visa for months now, the school and I were just waiting on SKY to decide if I was ‘satisfactory;’ their words not mine.” You laughed slightly and couldn’t help but smile.

He didn’t share your enthusiasm, “...isn’t that a long way from here?”

“Yeah, it’s literally on the other side of the world.”

“Then…” he shifted his body to lay next to you, taking his hand into yours. “What about us?”

“Us?” You couldn’t help but echo the question. As far as you were concerned he wasn’t even a friend to you. You slept with him. He slept with you. That was all.

He didn’t think the same way. He gave a sad laugh, “Yeah us. Listen Anastasia..”

_ I don’t like where this is going _

“You are really closed off but I’m willing to work on it if you are. We can’t work on that if you’re thousands of miles away.”

You blinked. Again. Again. “I beg your pardon?”

He squeezed your hand, “Our relationship. I want to be with you, Anastasia.”

You stared at him for a moment, “Ah…I see.”

Without wasting another second you pulled yourself from under the covers and began to redress yourself. Thankfully you were able to get dressed rather quickly since you always took care to make sure none of your clothes were damaged. You could hear his voice behind you but you couldn’t process it so you ignored it. You were able to make it all the way to his front door before you saw his hand slam the door closed.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

You sighed and turned toward him, “I see that we both have different interpretations of our relationship.”

He seemed confused. You took a deeper sigh and placed a hand on his bare chest, “I’ve never thought about our relationship as anything more than physical. I’m sorry, I thought that was clear from the beginning. If I had known I would have ended this a lot sooner.”

“Ended it? Anastasia, you aren’t making any sense. We’re dating.”

You were starting to get a migraine, “Greg, I’m not your girlfriend nor was ever planning on it. You misinterpreted our relationship. I need to leave, I won’t contact you again.” You pushed his arm away and opened the door again.

He  _ really _ didn’t like that.

He slammed the door closed and grabbed your underarm and threw you to the ground, “Liar.”

You used your arm to brace yourself against the floor.  _ I thought I knew better than sleep with a crazy guy. _ You tried to get up but he grabbed your arm again, throwing your back onto the linoleum. 

“You love me! I heard you say it one night in your sleep, you can’t lie to me.”

“I could have been dreaming about anything, just because you were there it doesn’t mean it was directed at you. Besides, I was  _ asleep _ I don’t even remember doing that.”

“No, no, you love me. You just don’t realize it since you’ve been so stressed. Don’t worry baby, I’m going to make sure that what your subconscious wants is brought to the surface.”

Luckily for you, an hour or so later the neighbors called in a noise complaint and the landlord walked in on him tying you up after he had knocked you out. You were taken to the hospital and he was incarcerated.

Maybe your taste was just as bad as your roommate’s.

* * *

You had to practically fight the college and hospital to let you go on your flight at the scheduled time. They all wanted you to take some time to process everything, but you wanted nothing more than to get to South Korea as soon as possible. You were able to convince them by saying your dorm and his apartment held “bad memories” and you didn’t have any other place to go after your plane left.

Except for the apartment that you placed a deposit on while a nurse put your IV in.

You weren’t looking forward to the long plane ride, but you were looking forward to the book that you bought at twelve hundred percent markup at the bookstore at the airport. 

You sighed as you gathered your things as your row was called and you began to file into the airplane.

* * *

While the book was just as terrible as you expected it to be, the jetlag was also accompanied by a severe migraine that could only be ailed by the ibuprofen that was tucked away in your luggage under the plane. You had planned on taking some in the taxi that was going to take you to your apartment, but much to your dismay, the driver shoved your suitcase in the trunk.

Rather than reopen it and grab the pills, you decided to wait it out. 

You regretted it after the car had started moving. Who would have thought that going from an airplane to speed-walking to a car would make your head feel like a blender?

You tipped the driver and carried your things up to your apartment. Thankfully someone at the front desk stopped you and gave you the key. You thanked them in a language that probably wasn’t Korean and hurried over to the elevator. You were surprised that you could even  _ see _ at this point, let alone remember what floor your apartment was on. 

You were able to get lucky by getting the right door and key on your first try, but your luck quickly ran out as you forgot that Koreans take off their shoes before entering. You ended up slamming your shin into the small step in front of the door. The pain was too much for you to bear and you ended up collapsing on the floor, writhing in pain. You gave up and decided to sit up and dump out everything in your suitcase on to your floor.

You could hardly see anymore and had to simply feel around for the familiar bottle of ibuprofen. You felt your fingers curl around the bottle and quickly popped four tablets into your mouth. You knew the medication would take a bit of time to kick in so you decided to lay on the floor until your head permitted you to move without feeling like absolute trash.

* * *

It was the worst night of sleep that you’ve ever had. You woke up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. Thankfully it was just the delivery men to drop off all of your furniture. You had to sweep all of your belongings into your closet before they started to bring in everything. 

Once they finished all that was left for you to do was to put all of your stuff away. Which didn’t take long considering that everything that you brought with you was contained to a suitcase and carry-on. All that was left now was to go to the grocery store and grab some things for your dreadfully empty fridge. 

_ Wait. How much do I have left after the hospital bills? _

You fumble over to the table that was still covered in a pale plastic sheet where your phone laid. You quickly picked it up and logged in to your banking app. You could practically feel your soul leave your body. 

_ I thought they were going to at least give me my last cheque… _

Forty-five dollars taunted you from the screen. You need to find a job. Fast.

Without a second thought, you open a job finder app and scroll through everything that has an immediate opening. 

_ It would be nice if there was something that I could do related to my major...I doubt I could get any programmer jobs right now though. Maybe I could get something in an office? I’ve worked as a personal assistant before… _

As if the app could hear you, the next listing you saw caught your eye. It was, well...kinda sketchy. The listing had no photo of the building nor the name of the company. All the job title said was “text the phone number for information.” You tapped it, curiosity getting the better of you. All the description had was the phone number. You shrugged and copied the phone number hoping that the strange of the listing made it less competitive. 

**Hello, I saw this number for a job listing. I would**

**like to inquire** **about the nature of the position.**

You sent the message and went back to the app to continue to browse around. You didn’t expect an immediate response.

**Good day. The position is for an office. Before you come in for an i** **nterview we need**

**to do a background check on you. Please provide your name.**

You blinked at the text.  _ Did this employee spend all of their time on their phone? No way, they might have just been near it. _

**Of course. However, I do feel a bit wary about sending my**

**information to a stranger. Could you show some proof of employment?**

You felt that your request was reasonable. While the site you used to find jobs could only be put up by large corporations, you still felt..ify about the whole thing. If they refused after this you would have to find something else, which you knew would take a bit of time since you now were seriously intrigued by this job offer. 

They took a little longer to respond this time.

**Of course… attached is my C &R ID. Is this sufficient?**

You waited for the image to load. You looked over the ID card. It was of a woman with short brown hair and black glasses. You looked at her name and mentally patted yourself on the back for recognizing the characters and reading it.  _ Kang Jaehee, huh? _

After a quick Google search, everything made sense. Turns out that Ms. Kang is the personal assistant to Han Jumin. A director of C&R. No wonder they wanted a private job listing. You knew a lot about C&R. Your double major with international business made you research the company endlessly. They were both famous and infamous. Famous for their influence over so many countries and markets. Infamous for how much the CEO affects the stocks of the company. 

You smiled to yourself as you typed out your reply. 

**Yes, this is quite sufficient. Do you only need my name or**

**would you like my residence number as well?**

**That won’t be necessary. Actually we only need**

**your phone number.**

**I see..well this is my personal phone that I am messaging**

**you on. Please let me know if I am suitable for the interview.**

You knew that this was going to be a very different interview than you were expecting. It was already weird. Sure, you knew how to do a “background check” on people through their phone numbers but it was more of a deep-dive into their personal lives than anything. It was also  _ very _ illegal. You didn’t mind it that much but it did make you a bit curious about who exactly does these “background checks.”

You have had background checks done on you before and those usually took a few weeks. But since this wasn’t a usual check, maybe they had a private programmer do their checks, hopefully, it wouldn’t take nearly as long. 

You got a message from Ms. Kang five minutes later. 

**We have completed your background check. We will send you an email**

**shortly about when you can come in for the in-person interview.**

There was no way that they had actually done a check on you during that short amount of time, right?  _ Do they have someone on standby? It’s not even working hours right now. _ You shook your head and tried not to question it too much.

**That’s fine. I will be waiting for that email.**

You quickly lock your phone, hoping that the strange interaction wouldn’t carry into your work if you did get the job. You suddenly became curious about what it was that the person actually found… You went into your new bedroom where your mattress laid bare on your bed frame. Your backpack was slumped in the corner where you had placed it before attempting to help the delivery men with your furniture. 

You pulled out your laptop and opened it as you walked back to the dining room table, just in time to hear your phone chime. You decided to ignore it and signed into your laptop. As it started to load you quickly typed in your personal code to unlock the work function of the computer. It was something you made out of pure paranoia when you caught your high school roommate on it one day. Thankfully it was just her hijacking your Netflix account but you became hyper-vigilant on security since then. 

You launched the work function and the screen drastically changed to the all-too-familiar black screen with green text. You smiled at the nostalgia. You had only been using it for school-work this past year, it felt good to use it like you did when you were younger. Your fingers flew across the keyboard, typing in the memorized code.

When you finished the computer launched the secure browser. Normally what was shown on the screen was the person’s photo, address, and government known information. But yours didn’t show that. You had gotten a new phone since you needed to switch your cell phone provider to a Korean one. Everything had to be changed over. But for some reason, the system hadn’t caught up yet. According to your “background check”, you were a South Korean woman named Cha Mina. She had graduated from college a year ago with a degree in marketing, she had just filled for a new home in your area so you could see how maybe the system hadn’t caught up yet.

You leaned back in your chair. If you texted Ms. Kang back and tell her that the “background check” was wrong then you’d be admitting to a federal crime and the fact that you knew they didn’t do a real background check.  _ I really don’t need to open that can of worms. _

If you played dumb, then they couldn’t do anything though. All you had to do was go to the interview and just answer any questions honestly. Or at least, answer them in a way that wouldn’t get you deported.

You figured it was a good idea to check your email.

* * *

You really need a way to get your nerves in check. You were sure that you had smoothed your pencil skirt down at least a dozen times. You didn’t pack any business clothes with you, so after studying Ms. Kang’s clothes from the photos you saw of her online you used as little of your precious forty-five dollars to buy a suitable outfit for the interview. Most things were from the thrift store which was much less popular here than the states. You found a stainless white button-down, black pencil skirt, cropped blazer, and short ankle boots. 

_ Hopefully, I won’t get kicked out on the spot. _

You were lucky enough not to experience any xenophobia or racism. Probably because most people couldn’t tell much from behind. You had long straight black hair which helped you blend in on trains and such. You weren’t too sure about how your accent sounded but it seemed that most people didn’t notice or care if your accent was perfect. You had some curves, but it wasn’t uncommon for you to see girls with similar curves.

The problem was your face. You didn’t have a hint of Asian in you, let alone Korean. You might have been able to get away with being half Korean if your eyes were brown. 

You try not to think about it too much as you approach the secretary’s desk from the elevator. Her eyes were trained on her computer, squinted as if she couldn’t understand anything it was saying. She was gnawing on her lip in concentration so deeply that it was starting to go completely white.

“Excuse me?” You asked, hoping that your Korean was at least semi-understandable.

She didn’t bother to look up from her computer, “You will not be seen if you don’t have an appointment.”

You chose not to listen to her cold tone and watched as the pink color returned to her lips, “I’m here for the interview. I’m supposed to meet with Kang Jaehee.”

The woman stopped typing and looked up at you. Despite how dark her eyes were, you could see her pupils dilate. “Of course,” she shot up. “I can take you to her right now.”

She had already begun walking before you could bow to thank her. You shuffled after her and she began power walking down a long empty hallway. Everything in the C&R building was so pristine. You couldn’t help but feel even more self-conscious than you already did. 

After somehow managing to keep up with the secretary, you reached a door at the end of the hall. She knocked on the door three times before hearing a muffled woman’s voice from inside. The secretary opened the door and stepped halfway inside.

“Assistant Kang, this woman is here for the interview,” she said in a calm tone that you knew had to have taken years to perfect.

Ms. Kang was sitting at her desk. To say it was cluttered would have been an understatement. You couldn’t even see the desk for all of the papers. Papers were thrown about on the floor. Some were stacked in neat piles around her desk. Hell, there was even a  _ ring _ of papers that encapsulated her behind her desk. There was no room on her desk to even set a paper down so she had her chair turned around to face the floor to ceiling window with even more papers stacked in her lap.

“Thank you, Miss Song.” She replied, not bothering to look back at her.

The secretary bowed and turned to leave. “Miss Song?” She froze in place. “Do let me know when you’ve finished reorganizing Mr. Han’s schedule. I truly do appreciate you volunteering.”

The secretary nodded, “Of course, Assistant Kang.” You could hear the regret in the woman’s shoes as she clicked down the hallway.

“Please sit,” Ms. Kang said as she placed the documents she held on her lap onto the floor, only to pick up a different stack.

You sat down in the brown leather chair that was surprisingly clear of papers. You decided to see how you did outfit wise. Ms. Kang was wearing almost the same thing as you, the only difference being that her’s was probably bought first-hand. 

“Would you mind stating your name for clarification?” she asked, probably studying the incorrect “background check.”

“Anastasia Vadeboncoeur,” you said in your natural accent.

She paused and turned to you. You both took each other in. Her short hair was grown out more than it was in the photos, which helped frame her face better. The glasses she wore made her eyes look wide and the red lines in them more prominent. She looked tired. Which surprised you for different reasons. She was the first one that you had seen that didn’t appear to be wearing makeup. You felt a sort of comradery with her because of that. You hadn’t worn any either, mostly because you didn’t know how to put any on.

She blinked and shook her head slightly, “My apologies, it seems that we ran a background check on the wrong person. I didn’t know that you were foreign.”

You smiled at her, “That’s fine. Will I still be considered for the interview?”

Her face turned to a practiced stoic yet polite one, “I need to rerun the background check, as long as you pass you will still be considered.”

“Oh, well should I come back a later date?”

She waved a hand dismissively as she pulled her laptop seemingly out of nowhere, “That won’t be necessary. It should only take a few minutes.”

She began to type on her laptop and less than a minute after she started typing, her phone chimed. She quickly reached for it, her laptop shifting with her skirt. She pushed up her glasses as she tapped her phone screen. Soon after she finished her laptop chimed.

“That’s strange…” she said scrolling on her laptop.

“Is something wrong?”

She tightly knitted her brows, “I can’t seem to find any information on you. How long have you lived here?”

“About two days.”

She gave a surprised glance at you but focused back on her screen, “Are you here on a visa?”

“Yes, I’m on a student visa. I’m attending SKY University via dual enrollment.”

She mouthed something and quickly picked up her phone from atop the papers she placed it on. “What is your country of origin?” She asked, now tapping so loudly you could hear each time her finger collided with the glass screen.

“I was born in Quebec, but I was raised in the states. I have dual citizenship.”

She nodded absentmindedly and continued to tap. Eventually whoever she was messaging had given up and decided to call instead. “Excuse me..” She said before turning away and answering.

She spoke in a hushed tone so you hardly understand what it was that she was saying. You could tell from her tone that she was far from happy though. After a minute or so, she hung up and faced you. 

“I apologize for that, it seems that our system hadn’t quite caught up with you. Don’t worry, you still passed the background check.”

You smiled sweetly. You already knew that you would pass, you hadn’t done anything worth not hiring for. “Thank you.”

“Before I tell you about the position that you are applying for I would like to tell you what it is that I do.” She set her laptop down and you could just barely tell that she was speaking slower than before. “I’m the personal assistant to Han Jumin, a Director and the most likely to succeed the CEO of C&R. As you can tell from my office, I’m heavily burdened.”

You nodded along politely. You were surprised that she was able to handle this work at all, so what she said next didn’t surprise you much.

“You may think that it’s strange for an assistant to need an assistant, but that is the job. Your job would be to keep me organized so I can keep Mr. Han organized.”

You cocked your head to the side. It seemed a bit simple to you, why would she make such a fuss over a simple job. “May I ask why you didn’t list the job on the site?”

“That was Mr. Han’s condition on allowing me to have an assistant. He isn’t fond of people, especially those who might be trying to use C&R’s wealth and power for their personal gain. The unorthodox way of listing the position made applicants scarce and the ones that did apply didn’t meet the standard that Mr. Han held.”

You sat up straighter, confidence leaking out. You couldn’t help but feel proud that you met the impossibly high standards that you didn’t even know existed. 

“Despite being in university, you appear to be qualified for the position. If you choose to accept the position you will be put on a week-long trial and a decision will be made on your permanent employment,” she said. 

_ Ah… I’m being held to Mr. Han’s standards, not her’s. _ You gave a slight bow, “I would be very grateful to be hired.”

Ms. Kang’s lips twitched slightly, hinting at the joy she held. “Good, your trial starts tomorrow Miss…?”

“Vadeboncoeur,” you said effortlessly.

“V-vad--”

You stopped her before she tried again, knowing she’d butcher it, “You can call me Anastasia or Ana if that is also too difficult.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Ana.” She gave a genuinely warm smile. It was the first one that you’d seen since your plane had landed, perhaps the last time was even before that.

It made your heart warm, all the same. “Of course, Ms. Kang.”

You bowed and turned to leave. 

“Jaehee.” You froze. “It would be rude if I addressed you casually and you didn’t do the same, so please call me Jaehee.”

You couldn’t help the smile that pulled your lips back. “Thank you, Jaehee,” you said looking back at her.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart warm as you walked down the cold hallway. You were going to make a life for yourself here. All that was left was to not completely embarrass yourself during class next week.

* * *

You should probably stop trying to reassure yourself. You hadn’t even been on campus an hour before you had gotten lost. You had made it to your class fine, even fifteen minutes early. You decided to take the time to go to the restroom rather than play a game that you had found on the weird side of the AppStore at two AM.

You didn’t expect to get lost on the way back from the restrooms. How could you have gotten lost? It wasn’t like you had suddenly forgotten the way you took to get to the restroom. 

Just as you were convincing yourself that lecture halls in South Korea were in a sperate dimension and could teleport at will, you collided with a person.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you felt your center of gravity shift.

Right as you braced yourself for the impact of the cold tiled floor, a slender calloused hand grabbed your forearm. Maybe it was because they didn’t grab you bicep or maybe it was because they couldn’t hold your body weight, but you both feel to the ground nonetheless. At least their grab was able to slow you down enough to extend your other arm and brace it against the floor.

Your palm and wrist stung as you hit the ground. You were about to lift it up to make sure your wrist wasn’t sprained when the bodyweight of the other person crashed onto you. You involuntarily closed your eyes as their full body weight fell onto you.

You sat up slightly making the person, who now had their head cushioned by your chest, push themself up. His blonde hair fell into his face and you highly doubted he could see you at all. His head was so close to your face that you could see the new growth peeking out from his scalp.

“Are you okay?” you asked, rubbing the back of your head.

“Yeah… you?” he asked, pushing his hair out of his face.

You moved your hand slightly and felt two small hair clips under it. You looked at them for a moment and then held them out in front of him. “Are these yours?”

He stared at you for a moment as if he was trying to process everything that had just happened. Right when you were about to ask him if he needed to go to the nurse he turned a vivid red. “I-I-I’m--s-s-o sorry!” He launched off of you and back-crawled against the nearest wall.

You smiled at how shy he was, “It’s alright, it was an accident.” You stood up and cracked your back. “Need a hand?”

He looked at your hand warily and his cheeks faded to a less vibrant color as he accepted it. He graciously took the clips from your other hand and gingerly placed them in, pinning his fringe to the side. 

You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful the contrast was with his violet eyes with his flushed face. “You have beautiful eyes,” you said honestly.

His face returned to the vivid red color it was before. He stared at you for a moment before you caught the sight of a backpack laying on the ground and went to retrieve it. 

“Is this yours too?” You held it out to him with a kind smile.

“Please forgive me!” he said, suddenly dropping onto the floor in a way that you had only seen in anime. 

You quickly dropped to your knees as well, trying to pull him up. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed yourself, “Hey wait, it’s okay. I’m fine. You’re fine, right? You don’t need to do that.” You couldn’t help but fumble out more reassurances as you kept trying to pull him up.

He looked up at you, “but the way that I fell on you…”

“It was an accident, besides you didn’t try to do anything weird.” You placed a hand on his shoulder and slowly rubbed it, a habit that you tended to absent-mindedly do.

As he began to stand you followed him. He silently took the backpack from your shoulder and smiled softly at you. You felt your chest warm as you took in the smile.

“Are you new here?” he asked softly, keeping his eyes trained slightly away from you. 

You nodded and shifted your weight so he would look at you more directly, “Yeah, today’s my first day and I got lost on my way back from the restroom.”

He was able to catch your eye and hold contact, “do you have your schedule on you? I can show you to the lecture hall if you want.”

You broke out into a grateful smile and your raised shoulders sunk a bit, “I would really appreciate that.”

You quickly pulled your schedule from your back pocket and handed the folded paper to him. He studied it for a moment before he smiled, “We’re actually headed to the same place.”

You laughed to yourself at how you were going in the exact opposite direction of the class. “Good thing I ran into you then.”

He looked at you blankly for a moment before his eyes softened slightly, “Yeah… I guess so.”

As you both began to walk to the class a thought suddenly popped into your head, “What’s your name, by the way?”

He turned toward you, “Kim Yoosung. Yours?”


End file.
